Chapter 52 So goddam Tried
Maureen Laurent
The massive bed sank beside me, heavy and warm, and I knew without opening my eyes that Vuk was back.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My whole body felt like it had been dragged through fire and left to smolder. Heat poured off my skin in waves, my head pounded in time with my heartbeat, and every breath felt like swallowing glass. Fever. Bad one. The kind that makes the world tilt even when you’re lying still.
I heard the sheets rustle, felt the mattress dip deeper as he shifted closer. Then strong arms were sliding under me—careful, but urgent—lifting me like I weighed nothing. My head lolled against his chest; his scent wrapped around me like smoke and pine and something darker, something that should have soothed me but only made the dizziness worse.
He carried me out of the bedroom, through the shadowed corridors, straight into the bathing chamber. Cold marble met my fever-hot skin when he set me down on the edge of the massive obsidian tub. Water started running—warm, not scalding, thank the gods—and I felt him kneel in front of me, big hands framing my face.
“Little moon,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Look at me.”
I tried. My eyelids were lead. Everything blurred.
He didn’t wait for me to answer. Just kept talking, soft, steady, like he was anchoring me to the world. “Stay with me. Breathe. I’ve got you.”
I wanted to snap at him. Wanted to tell him he had no right to sound so gentle after disappearing without a word. But my tongue felt swollen, useless. I could only manage a faint whimper when he pressed a cold cloth to my forehead.
He dressed me in something soft—his shirt, I think, the sleeves swallowing my hands—then carried me back to the bed. Livia appeared at some point; I heard her quiet voice, the rustle of her skirts, then Vuk barking orders for his personal healer.
The whole time he held me against his chest, arms locked like iron bands. One hand cradled the back of my head, the other splayed protectively over my stomach, thumb making slow, unconscious circles. I was too sick to wonder why he kept touching me there.
“You left without saying anything…” I finally managed, voice cracked and small. “I hate you.”
He went still for half a heartbeat.
Then he pressed his lips to my forehead—gentle, lingering. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, little moon.”
He didn’t argue. Didn’t defend himself. Just kissed me again, softer this time, like he was trying to absorb the fever through his mouth.
“You was asleep in the jet,” he continued, voice rough with something that sounded like guilt. “I carried you inside, laid you down, then… there was a meeting. Council emergency. I thought I’d be back before you woke. I was wrong. None of it was worth this. I’m sorry.”
I tried to laugh. It came out as a weak cough. “It’s just a fever… I’m not dying…”
He gave a small, broken sound that might have been a laugh. “I’d rather fight death itself than watch you slip away from me.”
He gathered my hands in his—huge, scarred, burning hot against my chilled fingers—and held them to his chest. I could feel his heart slamming beneath my palms, too fast, too hard.
“Good morning, my lord…”
The voice was calm, female, older. The healer.
Vuk didn’t let go of me, just shifted slightly so she could approach the bed.
She was tall, silver-streaked hair pulled into a severe knot, eyes sharp and assessing. She wore simple black robes marked with the Dominion crest, and her hands glowed faint blue as she stepped closer.
“Fever came on suddenly?” she asked, already reaching for me.
Vuk nodded once. “Last night. She was fine when I left her sleeping. Woke up like this—burning, disoriented. She can barely speak.”
The healer hummed, not unkindly, and pressed cool fingers to my temples. Light bloomed under her palms—soft, searching. It traveled down my throat, across my chest, paused for a long moment over my abdomen, then continued.
I felt her magic brush against me like cool water. It should have soothed. Instead it made my stomach lurch, nausea rising sharp and sudden.
She frowned slightly, brows drawing together.
“High fever, yes. Elevated heart rate. Some lingering traces of wolfsbane in her system—old,but still present. The mating bond is… turbulent. Very new. Very strong. His essence is everywhere, drowning out almost everything else.” She glanced at Vuk. “That’s normal in the first year and she may or not be able to sustain with your heavy influence, especially with an Alpha of your caliber. It can make readings chaotic.”
She moved her hands again, light flaring brighter over my womb for a second time. Paused. Tilted her head.
“Nothing immediately life-threatening,” she concluded. “No infection, no poison I can detect. Just the body trying to reconcile lunar blood with hellfire lineage. It’s straining her. I’ll bring it down.”
She pressed a small vial to my lips—bitter, cold, numbing. I swallowed with difficulty.
Vuk never looked away from my face. His thumb kept tracing those slow circles on my stomach, like he could somehow hold me together through touch alone.
The healer stepped back. “Keep her cool. Fluids. Rest. The fever should break by morning. If it doesn’t—” she met Vuk’s eyes “—call me immediately.”
She bowed and left.
Silence settled.
Vuk exhaled, long and shaky, and pulled me tighter against him. His chin rested on top of my head.
“You scared me,” he whispered.
I wanted to tell him he deserved it. Wanted to tell him to get out, to leave me alone, to stop holding me like I might disappear.
Instead my traitorous body curled into him, seeking the heat he radiated, the steady thud of his heart.
I didn’t know why my stomach kept twisting like that.Didn’t know why the nausea came in waves even as the fever started to ease.
I just knew I was tired.
So damn tired.